


Just His Luck

by TheBashfulPoet



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Christmas prompts, F/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 07:54:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8836480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBashfulPoet/pseuds/TheBashfulPoet
Summary: Christmas Prompt:Person A hates Christmas, but person B loves it. Slowly, Person A learns to like Christmas because of Person B. Bonus: Person A walks in on Person B decorating their home in their Christmas underwear while dancing and singing Christmas carols





	

You know those days where everything that can go wrong just seems to go wrong? Well, Bellamy is having one of those days. It all started this morning when his coffee machine decided it did not want to work this morning, meaning he had to resort to coffee from the café close to the university (which is not only awful but extremely overpriced for the amount of awful). Then, one of his students came by during his office hours (which are almost always unused, especially during finals season) during the one time he actually needed the time to finish some last minute grading. Said student then proceeded to give him excuse after excuse of why he couldn’t finish his assignment that was due Monday (it is Friday) for the next two hours until he had to literally run to his next class. Not to mention that when he finally got off (later than usual thanks to the grading he had to stay and finish after classes) traffic was horrendous, almost doubling his commute back home. To say he was a little keyed up would be an understatement. To top it all off, Christmas season has just hit full swing now that Thanksgiving is over. If there is one thing Bellamy hates more than anything, it is Christmas.

Bellamy grew up with almost next to nothing with his mother working a job that paid little to nothing for the long hours she put in and having to make up the slack on her back. If that was not hard enough, one of his mother’s johns knocked her up and suddenly there was another mouth to feed and take care of, making their little budget even smaller. Bellamy does not blame Octavia for being born (it probably was one of the best things that could have happened to him), but the fact remains that life was hard and as such Christmas was always a time for repeat disappointment and frustration as he had to explain to his baby sister why there were no presents under the small tree they had in the living room corner.

So even now that Bellamy is 26 with life where not only is he financially stable (and has been so for the last few years), and his little sister is finishing up her own degree and happily engaged, Christmas is still a sore spot for him. Even after all these years, the bitter tang of disappointment and envy are on the back of his tongue. So, yeah. He hates Christmas.   
He pulls into the parking garage of his apartment and (of course) has to drive to the 5th floor before he finds a spot on the complete opposite side from his apartment. He is pulling the keys from his ignition when his phone starts ringing in his pocket, the shrill sound of the default ringer filling the empty space of the car and giving him the start of a migraine. Laying his head against the steering wheel, he pulls the phone free and answers it without even checking who it is.  
“Hello.” He meant it as a question, but it comes out more like a grunt.  
“Good evening to you too, Sunshine.”  
He sighs and runs a hand over his face, “What do you want Reyes?”

“Oh it’s Reyes is it?” Bellamy hears the shuffling around of metal and the clink of metal hitting the ground, all tell-tale signs that Raven was at the garage still. “Geez, you must be in a mood. Shit day?”

“Raven.”

“Yes, Bellamy?”

“What do you want?”

“Oh, you’re no fun.” She sighs heavily, “I need a favor.”

“Is it a favor that entails me doing something right now? Because I just got home and leaving sounds terrible.”

“Entails,” she lowers her voice in a crude impression of his, “Okay Dr. Professor.”

“ _Raven._ ”

Normally he would not mind Raven’s jabs (it was a part of the reason he actually _like_ her), but after the day he had, he just wants to get whatever it is he wants from her done (because let’s be honest, he has a hard time saying no to those he cares about) and then crawl into bed.

“Sorry, sorry. And yes, you are going to have to leave your apartment. I need you  to-” There is a loud bang muffled in the background, “God damn it! WICK! I told you not to touch my shit did I not?! This is why I won’t marry you!”

Bellamy rolls his eyes as he hears a murmured sorry in the background. He leans back in his seat and waits for Raven to finish her thought.

“I need you to go check on Clarke,” she grunts as if she is picking up Wick apparently dropped.

Bellamy perks up instantly, “Why do I need to check on Clarke? Is everything okay? Is she sick?”

“Chill out mother hen, she’s fine.” There is a heavy thud as Raven drops whatever it is she has in her hands down. “She just got done working a double shift at the hospital last night and has probably been asleep for 12 hours. You know how she gets.”

“Dead to the world unless there is an apocalypse.”

“Or you call her, yeah. Pretty much. Anyways, I need you to make sure she is, you know, not dead and has had actual food.”

“And you need _me_ to go do this why? She is _your_ roommate; call her or something.”

“Oh, why didn’t I think of that?” He voice dripped with sarcasm, “Oh wait, I _did_ . WICK, if you reach for that bolt one more time, I will _end you_!” There is a small pause where Bellamy can practically hear Raven glaring at her boyfriend.

“Anyways, she isn’t answering. Besides, I’m sure it must be such an inconvenience for you to have a reason to go see the girl you’ve been pining over for the last year and a half.”

“I have not been _pining_!” Bellamy sighs, “I’ve been waiting for the right moment to tell her.”

“Is that what you tell yourself? She’s already in love with you and you’re an idiot for- YOU ARE A DEAD MAN, WICK!”

Bellamy yanks away the phone from his ear and winced at the volume.

“Just go check on Clarke.”

With that Raven hangs up and Bellamy is left in silence once more. He stares at the blank screen of his phone for a second longer before shoving it back in his pocket and reinserting the keys into his ignition. With a sigh, he pulls out of his parking spot .

“At least Clarke lives just a few blocks away,” he mumbles to himself as he begins his descent down the parking garage.

 

* * *

 

 

He and Clarke have an interesting history for two people who call themselves best friend. In fact, Bellamy could not stand Clarke for the first couple of years that he knew her. Though, Bellamy maintains to this day that the only reason they started off on the wrong foot was due to the fact that they met on Christmas at Monty and Jasper’s annual Christmas party (though rager was a more appropriate term for the night filled with ungodly amounts of drinking and merriment).

Honestly it was probably the worst year for them to have meet with him in the middle of grad school and Clarke nearing the end of medical school. He was constantly stressed with the weight of his course work on top of now having his own classes to teach and she could barely remember to each between all the studying and internships she was juggling. So when Bellamy met Clarke, already stressed from a day’s work and bitter about the holiday season, he made some poor choices. And by poor choice, he means that he called her a spoiled princess the moment she opened her mouth about Christmas. The fight was cataclysmic, ending with them both screaming themselves hoarse and more than one bruised ego. For the next two years, they could barely stay in the same room without another screaming match breaking out.

It wasn’t until Octavia had gotten in a really bad motorcycle accident (despite Bellamy telling her time and time again that her stupid bike would be the death of her) and Clarke spent hours in surgery making sure she would be able to walk on her leg again, only to spend the entire night at his side making sure that _he_ was okay,  that he thought that he maybe got something wrong about her. (He got a lot wrong about her.)

He doesn’t know exactly when he fell in love with her, but it was probably around that night, or maybe the night she showed him her paintings and then cried about how her father was the one to teach her to draw, or perhaps it is when she held his hand when he emptied his mind about his mother. He cannot really say. Falling in love with Clarke was just something that became as natural to him as blinking, he doesn’t really see it, but know it’s happening.

So, yeah, maybe he _has_ been pining for her for a while now, but if he is it is only because that losing her would be a lot worse than learning to live with the way his heart twists every time he hears her name. At least that is what he tells himself as he climbs over the planter to get to her front door.

Normally, he would knock before entering (despite having been given a key months ago), but figuring that Clarke would most likely be dead to the world, he didn’t really see the point and decided to just let himself in. He was wrong, so very wrong.

Not only was Clarke awake and moving, she was awake and moving around in her underwear and a black crop top.

His brain quickly malfunctions and he’s left standing in the doorway with his jaw hanging open and his eyes fixated on her moving form. Clarke, on the other hand, must not have heard him come in because she continues  moving around the Christmas tree with tinsel bunched in one hand (and some in her hair?) and the other filled with ornaments hanging from her fingers. She is swaying her hips back and forth while at the same time bouncing from one foot to another. It takes him a minute before he realizes she is dancing. It takes him two more to realize that she is singing too. Badly.

“I just want want you for my own~” Clarke punctuates the statement with a dramatic sway of her hip (Bellamy’s eyes tracking the movement hungrily), “More than you could ever know~”

She throws some tinsel over some branches and starts swaying her body faster, bouncing on her toes to some beat he cannot hear. Truth be told, all he could really focus on was the fact that the woman he has been in love with for years is currently in lacy black and red underwear that does wonders for her curvaceous ass and a crop top that barely makes it past her ribcage, all while her body bops and bounces around to music and her hair goes flying as she tosses her hair. It is enough to break a man of lesser will.

Bellamy contemplates on whether he should say something or quietly excuse himself and just tell Raven that she could check on Clarke herself. Then Clarke bends over to grab more tinsel and puts her whole ass on display and he loses all sense of thought.

“Make my wish come true~” She straightens up and brings the tinsel to her mouth as a faux microphone.“All I want for Christmas is you~”

The loud (and off-key) note is finally what breaks Bellamy free enough to pick up his jaw and decide that he _really_ should not be here seeing this (for his health and her privacy). Of course, that is also the exact moment Clarke swings around and spots him standing in the doorway with his hand still on the doorknob and his eyes firmly glued to her ass. (On the other note, he finds out that her shirt reads: Dear Santa I can explain, and just _really?_ )

“Holy shit!” Clarke nearly jumps out of her skin, and in the process backs against the boxes, tripping, and landing flat on her ass in a pile of tinsel.

Bellamy jumps into action the moment he notices she is going down. “Jesus, Clarke! Are you okay?”

Of course, as he bends down to offer her a hand, he notices that her already short crop top has ridden up to just below the curve of her breast, and of course she isn’t wearing a bra. (This really just isn’t his day.)

“Am I okay? No, you scared the living shit out of me!” She takes his hand and he pulls her up, “What are you even doing here?”

“Uhh,” he rubs the back of his neck, forcing his eyes anywhere but on her chest, “Raven called. Wanted to make sure you’re alive.”

Clarke groans, “And you came just in time to see my little performance. Great.”

Bellamy can feel the tips of his ears turning red, “Yeah sorry about that.”

Clarke waves him off, “Don’t worry about it, my mortification will go away in a few years.”

Bellamy can’t help the chuckle that slips past his lips and his eyes finally find her own, which are sparkling with amusement. Her whole face is alive and tinged red with her embarrassment and the adrenaline rush and her hair is wild from the fall with pieces of tinsel woven together with the blonde strands. She looks ridiculous and beautiful.

“Did I ever tell you that your Christmas obsession is weird?” He can’t keep the smile off his lips as he picks a piece of tinsel out, “You realize that it is only December 1st right? You have at least a few weeks before it’s socially acceptable to be covered in tinsel.”

Clarke scoffs and tosses back her hair, “Please, Christmas started on November 1st. It goes Christmas, a break for Thanksgiving, and then back to Christmas.”

He cocks an eyebrow, “That’s a long Christmas.”

“I need a lot of time to prepare,” she shrugs nonchalantly.

Bellamy rolls his eyes, “I don’t understand how you can love Christmas so much.”

She gasps, “How can you _not_! Christmas is the best time of the year, right next to Fourth of July and Halloween.”

“Oh yes, malls filled with crazy shoppers and stupid music that you literally cannot escape anywhere you go. What’s not love?”

“Come on,” she bumps her shoulder with his, “There must be something you like about Christmas!”

This time it is his turn to scoff, “Nope.”

She visibly pouts and crosses her arms and turns her back to him to resume her decorating. Rather than staring back at her ass, he decides that it’s probably in his best interest to keep her talking (and possibly get her to put on pants at the very least).

“What about you?” She hums in response, “What’s your favorite thing about Christmas.”

She turns around, the smile on her face is blinding. “I met you for starters.”

When bellamy looks back at this moment he couldn’t tell you what makes him take that first step. Maybe it was the way the lights on the tree lit up her face and created a multi-colored halo around her hair, or perhaps it was the way her eyes had a hint of uncertainty as they met his, but honestly it probably was the fact that something just clicked into place and he just _knew_.

He closes the gap between them in seconds and crashes his lips to hers. It takes her a second, but after the shock wore off, she wraps her arms around his neck and returns his kiss.  After a moment he rests his forehead against her own and smiles, pulling her closer against his chest.

“So, what finally did it?” She laughs a bit breathily.

“Your Pjs and terrible singing.”

She scoffs and punches his chest, “If I knew that all it would take for you to make a move was to show you my ass and boobs, I would have done that months ago!”

“Really?” The stupid grin on his face only grows wider.

“Yeah,” her eyes soften and she kisses him shyly, “I don’t know if you know this, but I’m kind of stupidly in love with you.”

“Oh that’s convenient. I’m stupidly in love with you too.”

Her smiles only gets brighter and soon their lips are attached once more and their kiss becomes more heated. It was everything he wanted, yet not enough. Next thing he knew, they were slowly making their way into her bedroom, clothes dropping each step they went.

Later in bed, after their bodies are both spent and slick with sweat, they lay entangled in a mess of limbs with Clarke draped over his chest as he strokes a hand through her hair.

“Hey Bellamy?”

He hums, too content to really form words.

“Still hate Christmas?”

He laughs and angles her face so he could kiss her again (because that’s totally a thing he could do now)

“I could learn to like it.”

She smiles against his lips,“That’s a start.”

And it really was.


End file.
